


Snapback

by jqueen17



Category: Phan
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mild Language, realistic USA TATINOF, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 08:41:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6559714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jqueen17/pseuds/jqueen17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Description: the long awaited realistic USA TATINOF fic that you guys voted for! (Sorry it’s so late but I hope it’s worth it!)</p>
<p>Warnings: A bit of language, some slight angst, and much bants and feels:)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snapback

**Author's Note:**

> This was a lot of fun to write (aside from the evil writer’s block that plagued the middle of it), so I hope you all enjoy!

Phil 

"America is weird."

Dan's voice was wary as we stepped off the plane, a snapback on his head. Our tour manager had advised us to lay low at first, because security wasn't as great as it should be in America. So that meant I was wearing gigantic sunglasses and Dan was wearing a BASEBALL CAP, of all things. I liked using that term, made me feel more American.

"Yes, it really is. Already."

Our tour manager, Scott, shot us a look over his shoulder and continued guiding us through the terminal, face stony and unamused. Leave it to Martyn to hire the meanest person alive for us to have to listen to for months on end.

"You look right like a tourist," I mumbled to Dan, and he snickered before covering it up with a cough, so Scott wouldn't try to burn a hole through our heads with his laser vision. The guy was a fun sponge, but Martyn had insisted on ensuring our utmost safety and punctuality. So we were incognito as two regular, inconspicuous guys, and it was going well.

'Was' being the key word.

"HOLY FUCK HI YOU GUYS!!!"

The distinctive voice of Tyler Oakley boomed out from our left, and Dan and I shot each other an amused look when Scott whipped around, frantically searching for our first safety obstacle of the tour.

"Who-"

A small, mint haired bullet hit us at full force, Scott being forced to step back from the momentum.

"Hey, Tyler," we chimed in unison, hugging him back. People were starting to glance at us, a few in partial recognition, so Scott was getting antsy.

"Can we do this somewhere else, please?" he asked, exasperatedly glaring at Tyler. Who of course smirked evilly and raised his voice an octave louder.

"Ooohh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you guys were undercover!"

We snickered while Scott fumed and Tyler grinned, but it didn't take long to locate our tour bus and breathe for the first time since we'd left London. Tyler had told us he'd be there to welcome us, whether we liked it or not. We'd just... forgotten... to tell Scott.  
Dan immediately threw the snapback off in disgust, running a hand through his hair and adjusting his fringe. I, however, pushed the sunglasses to the top of my head and leaned back, radiating relaxation.  
"You're such a priss, Dan," I teased, while he shot me a glare and Tyler tried to cover up a giggle. Dan WAS a priss, and we all knew it, but I'd never let him know I thought it was adorable. I pulled a journal out of the small backpack I had brought along, subtly doodling Dan's pissed off expression and slightly chaotic hair, writing some and drawing some. He also thought that this 'journal' was a planner, so I was safe with my thoughts.

"So Dan, how do you feel about Scotty out there?"

Tyler's voice was casual, but his eyes were sparkling with mischief.

"He's an arse," Dan replied easily, crudely mining a stick being shoved up what I assumed was, in fact, Scott's arse. Tyler doubled over in giggles and I shook my head at Dan, pulling the journal closer to my face so he wouldn't see my smirk of amusement.

"Well..." Tyler sang, and I looked up at his change in tone. "He seemed to be a little... interested... in you, my friend."  
Dan snorted, tapping away on his phone. Must be on Tumblr, knowing Dan.

"The guy has no soul, Tyler. Let alone a... colourful... one."

I'd never met anyone who giggled as much as Tyler, but that sent him over the edge. Dan rolled his eyes and shook his head at me, and I snickered and raised my hands in a 'what can you do?' gesture. It was amazing how well Dan and I could communicate without words of any sort, and luckily, Tyler didn't notice. Because he for sure would have commented with something not very tactful.  
It wasn't that I didn't like Tyler, necessarily, he was just a little much sometimes. Especially when he flirted with Dan, because while it didn't bother Dan one bit, it bothered me. I knew Tyler wasn't serious (or not completely, at least), and that he wasn't Dan's type by any means, but it still got under my skin. And the worst part was, Dan wasn't even mine to claim. We'd never really been 'official' by any standards, and while we acted so much like a couple, we... weren't. We'd kissed before, of course, but that was a long time ago and we'd both grown up since then. But I'd never stopped loving Dan, not for one second, and I hated not knowing how he felt about me.  
While I'd been doodling my thoughts and scrawling some of them on the edges of my journal pages, Scott had walked in and was now talking to Dan about how the next few days would play out. He did that a lot, I noticed, for the first time since I had left London two days ago. I figured it was because I tended to zone out when someone's face wasn't animated when they spoke (which Scott's most certainly was not), but since Tyler had planted that seed of suspicion in my brain, I started watching how Scott behaved around Dan more closely. And I could see what Tyler had meant. Scott was more relaxed around Dan, less uptight, and I even heard him laugh a few times at who knows what. I had just started glaring when I felt eyes on my face, and tore my eyes away from my best friend getting hit on to see Tyler smirking at me knowingly. I immediately looked down and tried to control the blush that I could feel spreading across my cheeks. After about two minutes of Scott 'casually' touching Dan's shoulder and laughing at every word that came out of his mouth, I got up and started walking outside.

"Um, where do you think you're going?"

I ground my teeth together at Scott's normal, superior tone, not bothering to turn around for fear that Dan would see my face.

"Outside. I can't breathe in here right now."

It wasn't like I went very far. I wasn't stupid; America was unpredictable and I didn't know my way around and it was a gigantic mess. I simply sat cross legged on the ground, running my hand over the cool pavement that was cast in afternoon shade. I heard the door open behind me a few minutes later, and I knew it was Tyler by his tiny footsteps.

"What," I snapped, not bothering to pretend I was okay. He'd seen my face, seen the anger in my eyes, and wasn't going to let it go. He surprised me, however, by sitting next to me and remaining quiet for longer than I thought possible. When he did finally speak, his voice was unusually soft and serious.

"I know you like Dan. I like Dan too, but what you two have... it's amazing. It's really none of my business, but if you like him, why don't you tell him?"

It really WASN'T his business, but I decided to answer because he was actually being considerate for the first time in... well, ever.

"It's not that easy," I started hesitantly. "He's not..."

"Gay?" Tyler offered, but I shook my head.

"No, it's not that. Dan doesn't really care much about gender, I don't think. It's just that I don't want to ruin what we have, because you're right, it is amazing and I don't want it to go away."

Once I said that, it was like a word valve opened up inside of me, and before long I was telling Tyler some things I couldn't even admit to myself.

"He's just, oblivious, I guess. Like you flirt with him and Scott flirts with him and everyone else flirts with him, and he doesn't CARE. He just let's it happen and then pretends like nothing happened at all. And I can't say anything because what right do I have to do that?"

Tyler pursed his lips, honestly considering it. "Well..." he drawled, "he IS your best friend, Phil. You're allowed to be a little protective. But I think you should tell him anyway, if just to clear the air and get it out of the way."

I was already shaking my head no, and Tyler sighed, standing and pulling me up with him. Which was a feat unto itself, considering he was nearly a foot shorter than me.

"Well," he huffed, apparently dropping the issue for now. "We should probably go inside. It's getting dark and I have to go anyways, but I want to tell Dan bye."

I nodded, following him inside to see Dan reading 'Ready Player One' (for the third time) and Scott checking the bus for who knows what. Tyler started talking to Dan as I sat down, picking my journal up and doodling again. I knew we were about to start driving and I wasn't particularly thrilled about it.  
Tyler had hugged us goodbye, murmuring in my ear as he let himself out, "if you ever need to talk feel free to call." I hugged him harder, and then he was gone, leaving Dan and I to our own devices for the night. Of course, neither of us were going to sleep at 9 o'clock, jet-lagged or not, so I tried not to look worried as I heard Scott startup the engine of the bus. I tried to look on the bright side; at least Scott was up there and not back here with us.  
I sketched Dan reading. It took my mind off of the movement of the ground underneath me, and allowed me to stare at my best friend. He really was beautiful, despite his constant insistences that he was trash and therefore looked like trash. His dimples and eyes were my favourite parts of him, and his hands, and his smile. I thought that if Dan were bald and missing his nose, he would still look beautiful to me. It sounded weird, and let's face it, it was. But that didn't stop me from staring and drawing and falling deeper in love with Dan every single day, every single moment.  
What really sucked was that we hadn't even gotten to fly to America together. Scott had 'advised us not to', since 'anything could happen' and it 'wasn't as practical' as flying separately. Something about security and money. Whatever, either way I'd sat in the airport waiting for Dan for a solid 36 hours, and it was awful. Without Dan I felt like something was missing, a part of my life that I had grown so accustomed to that without it, it hurt. Dan's sarcastic comments and generally dark mood was what I called home, and whether he knew it or not, it was what it was.

"You okay, Philly?"

I smiled down at my journal when I heard Dan's disgusting nickname for me, looking up to see his wicked smirk.

"Yep. Keeping myself distracted."

Dan nodded, smiling sweetly before looking back down at 'Ready Player One'. A comfortable silence fell over the bus, and besides the disconcerting rumble of tires on pavement, it was peaceful. I had just started drifting off when I was pulled back into consciousness by Dan, hauling my half-sleeping figure up by the hand. I let him guide me to the couch, where he sat and I curled into fetal position to sleep.

"You're staying awake?" I mumbled, my words slurred with sleep and barely coherent, even to me. But Dan understood me perfectly clear, a laugh in his voice as he responded.

"Well duh, spork. You sleep, I'll be right here."

And with that reassurance, I did exactly that, Dan's warmth pressed against my ankles like a blanket.

Dan

Something about America made me feel a lot more laid back. It was the atmosphere, or something, something in the freedom of knowing there were new people and new places and new things to do. Something about risks, about chances. Maybe it was silly, but I didn't care.

Although I did hate the fact that 99% of the population wore fucking snapbacks, of all fashion choices.

After Phil went to sleep, I scrolled through Tumblr for a few hours before getting sleepy. It was only three in the morning, early for me, so I blamed the jet-lag. Phil had been periodically kicking me since he'd passed out, but it didn't bother me at all; the poor guy could barely get to sleep in any moving form of transportation, let alone stay asleep. It made me feel bad that he had to fly to America before me, and without me; I was his anchor. I didn't know if he even knew it, but I definitely did, and I was perfectly happy being that anchor.

So I just decided to sleep sideways, leaning on the arm of the sofa and tucking my feet gently against Phil's back. We were kind of pretzled around each other, but neither of us would give a shit in the morning. It wasn't like we hadn't slept next to each other hundreds of times before. Plus, sleeping next to someone was comforting; it made you feel less alone, gave you something to focus on other than your thoughts. And so I focused on Phil's back, rising and falling with his breaths against my legs, and soon enough fell into a peaceful sleep.

***

Waking up to Scott's unpleasant voice wasn't exactly my idea of an ideal start to our first day in America. I put my arm over my eyes, rolling over and nearly kicking Phil in the face in the process.

"Get up. We have to go over things one more time before we head to Texas."

Groaning, I rolled over, looking at him with a blank expression and waiting for him to speak. He glared pointedly at Phil, and I sighed; this guy was a pain in my arse.

"Let him sleep. I'll fill him in when he wakes up."

Scott sighed, but told me the schedule for the week and the details that we would need to know if we decided to sightsee or something. I wanted to laugh at that part; what would we want to see, cows and dessert?

"Alright, got all that?"

I nodded even though I was barely paying attention, just wanting him to leave. But he stopped in the doorway and smiled at me, probably appearing nice to anyone who didn't know him.

"By the way, you should wear your hair like that more often. I bet people wouldn't call you a priss as much."

Yeah, as if. "You should smile more often. I bet people wouldn't call you names behind your back as much."

Smile dropping from his face, he slammed the door behind him, jolting Phil from his slumber. I sighed. 'Damn you, Scott.'

Phil looked around for his glasses, too lazy to bother putting his contacts in. He looked confused for a moment before he saw me, smiling at his messy bed head.

"Did we blow a tire?"

I let out a dry laugh, swinging my legs off the sofa and stretching. "Nah, I pissed Scott off and he slammed the door."

Phil giggled a little, voice still groggy with sleep. "Good job."

We hunted around the bus for breakfast and eventually found some pop tarts, which are fucking amazing. We had been sitting on our laptops for a couple of hours until Scott knocked on the door, interrupting our peace like always.

"Get dressed, we're stopping for lunch."

That caught our attention. "I thought we couldn't stop?" Phil said, something odd in his tone that I couldn't identify. Scott sighed heavily, being unnecessarily rude as always.

"Well I'm hungry and I love Texas, so get over it."

I snickered, which made Phil crack a smile and eased the weird tension in the air somewhat. Something had been bothering him since yesterday, but I hadn't figured out what it was yet. It wasn't just Scott, either; the guy was annoying, but not so bad that Phil would act weird about it. 

After he left, we got dressed, Phil smirking as he slid his sunglasses on, and me curling my lip as I forced myself to shove the snapback on again. It was black, at least, but it made my hair feel suffocated and so what if I was a baby? I loved my hair. And I looked like an American and I hated it with a fiery passion.

Scott had decided on a barbecue restaurant, which sounded interesting, at the very least. I was starving, but I didn't know what half of the stuff on the menu was. Phil, however, seemed an expert, and told me to order the brisket.

"What the bloody hell is brisket?" I muttered to Phil, he just smiled wickedly. While we waited for our food to arrive, I gazed around the large, open room, studying the people and trying to access whether anyone was getting close to recognizing us. No one really seemed to be paying any attention to us, except for one girl sitting at the very back of the room, all the way against the wall. She was looking at her phone for the most part, but every time I looked away I could feel her eyes on my face. But about twenty minutes passed, and she never said anything or made any indication that she would. I caught her eye right as out food finally arrived, and held her stare for a moment before she smiled kindly, her eyes sparkling. And I knew, with that single smile, that she had recognized us. I also knew she wouldn't say anything to anyone, wouldn't freak out like Scott was so afraid people would. I thanked the universe that we had civilized fans, fans that wouldn't lose their shit over anything and everything related to Dan and Phil™. The next time she looked up I smiled appreciatively, nodding my head in thanks. She nodded back, smiling and looking back down. I let out the first real breath I'd taken since we'd sat down.

Phil studied my face as I cut a piece of brisket, chewing it slowly to tease him. I kept my face impassive, watching Phil squirm and struggle to figure out if I liked the food. Eventually he broke the silence with a laugh, unable to stand my amused silence any longer.

"Well??"

I kept the smile off of my face for as long as I could, but it was difficult. Phil had always had this odd ability to be able to tell when I would like a certain food, and it had become a game between us when I would try anything new. My repressed smile said it all, so Phil grinned and returned to eating his food. Scott, however, wasn't amused at all by our antics.

"You guys are really weird."

Phil and I looked at each other and shrugged, agreeing with Scott and not giving two shits. After we finished eating, and I glanced at the girl in the back one last time, we left the restaurant. I decided to tell Phil about her, letting Scott take the lead by quite a few feet.

"Somebody recognized us in there," I said quietly. Phil's face froze in fear, much like I'm sure mine had just a little while ago. But I smiled, and he relaxed, voice still a bit wary as he responded.

"They weren't going to say anything?"

I shook my head, smirking. "I guess not all of our fans are batshit crazy."

He smiled in relief, and we continued walking, both too nervous and excited for tomorrow to keep up much of a conversation. But that was alright; our silences had always, for the most part at least, been easy and comfortable.

Phil

After we ate lunch, Scott decided that for our first tour performance we deserved something special, a one-time thing that Martyn would never hear about; an overnight stay at a fancy hotel. Dan and I were not about to complain about this, since we hated the tour bus as much as Scott apparently did. 

The hotel was fancy, and since it was unnecessarily hot in Texas, I suggested the pool be the first 'fancy' order of business. No one argued, of course; it was at least 43 degrees.

While I swam laps around the pool and Scott worked on his tan, Dan sat perched on the deep end of the pool, playing on his phone. I frowned at him from across the pool, swimming over and tugging his leg.

"What's wrong?" I asked, although I knew the answer; his hair. Dan gave me a look, powering his phone off and sighing.

"You're going to make me go in, aren't you?"

I grinned, splashing him. He slipped into the pool faster than I expected, and it took all of my effort and concentration to stay ahead of him as he chased me through the water. Dan complained about being out of shape and about as active as a potato, but he was faster and stronger than he gave himself credit for. He was also more attractive than he gave himself credit for, and as he pinned me against the edge of the pool, I had to struggle to focus on his face and not on his glistening chest.

"Forfeit!" Dan yelled, drawing the attention of a few other hotel guests and not paying any attention to them. I grinned, stubbornly refusing to say mercy until Dan's fingers found their way to my side, and I let out an unattractive squeal, somehow managing to squeak, "Okay, mercy! Stop!"

Dan smirked smugly, turning to float on his back for a split second before I splashed more water in his face. And, both of us sputtering from laughter and water intake, the cycle began again, until the sun began to set and Scott informed us that it was time to get settled for bed, since we "had a big day ahead of us tomorrow".

"Okay, jeeze, mum," Dan muttered, making me snicker and Scott roll his eyes, a small smile on even his face.

***

"Are you more excited or scared for tomorrow?" I asked Dan once we'd returned to our room, his hair still drying from a shower, straightener heating up on the hotel nightstand.

"Well," he began, touching one finger to the straightener and frowning at its slowness. "I guess excited. I mean, I love meeting our fans and we've got this. But what about yourself?"

I watched him ruffle his hair with the towel for a moment before answering. "I'm scarcited."

"You're what?" Dan laughed, his hair spiked up from the towel and an adorable grin on his face.

"Scarcited. Scared and excited. Also, you should leave your hair like that more often. It's even better than your hobbit hair."

He rolled his eyes, but I saw the smile he was trying to hide as he poked at the straightener again. 

"DAMN this piece of shit, did you bring yours?"

"I did, for this reason exactly, but it's on the bus."

Dan let out an annoyed hiss from between his teeth, making me hide a grin. He'd get even more upset if I laughed. 

"I'm going to go see if Mr. Cranky has one. Wish me luck."

"Good luck!" I called, as he stomped out of the room. I walked over to the straightener and removed the piece of plastic I had wedged in between the gear that controlled the intensity of the heat and the edge, smirking in amusement. I hoped Scott didn't have one; this would teach Dan not to hide my razor the day before our first UK TATINOF show. He'd never admitted to doing it, but I knew he liked my stubble as much as I liked his hobbit hair. 

About fifteen minutes had passed when I decided to go look for Dan, wondering jokingly if Scott had murdered him for making some sarcastic comment. It wouldn't surprise me one bit if he had; Dan was a grade-A smartarse at the best of times.

What I turned the corner to see did surprise me, to say the least. No, it wasn't Dan's dead body with Scott standing over it, but rather, Dan's back pressed against the hallway wall, lips locked with Scott's. I stood there for about .4 seconds, before I turned tail and nearly ran back to our room. I couldn't stand watching my best friend, my Dan, be kissed by Scott of all people. The thought alone made me shudder in disgust.

Having nothing else to do as I sat, fuming, on the bed, I pulled out my journal, really writing for the first time in awhile. My handwriting had always reflected my mood, and the angry, pointed scrawl didn't fail me this time. I barely even looked at what I wrote, simply too angry and upset to care.

Not a lot of things could make me angry. I didn't know this could, either.

Dan

"What the fuck, Scott?" I pushed him away from me, with both hands since the arsehole hadn't even had a straightener. He stumbled, partly because I'd shoved him considerably hard and partly because he was most definitely smashed. His goofy grin was completely out of character and completely creeping me out.

"What? You liked it, you know you did."

Um, no, as a matter of fact, I had not. I shook my head, not bothering with him and needing Phil, needing normal, desperately. I slammed the door to our room, but Phil barely looked up from writing in his planner. I waited for him to ask me about the straightener, or why I was so mad, but he didn't. He simply scribbled in the little book, ignoring me completely.

"Hey," I said, and Phil finally glanced up, looking... well, mad. Nearly as mad as I was. I stood there in silence until I accepted that he wasn't going to speak first, for whatever reason, so I spoke again.

"We need a new tour manager."

Phil stared at me coolly, almost coldly, his voice more careful than I'd like it to ever be.

"Do we now? Are you sure?"

I threw my hands up in exasperation at his uninterested face, leaning against the dresser.

"YES, I'm sure! What the hell is your problem?"

His face twitched at my words, at the tone of my voice, making me regret yelling until he spoke.

"Oh, nothing. I just thought I'd be the first person to know if you decided you wanted to kiss a GUY."

My mouth dropped open in shock, probably looking comical but I was anything but amused. "WHAT?"

Phil didn't take it back, instead closing his planner and standing up. His voice was angry this time, barely concealed in his eyes.

"You know, of all people, I didn't think you'd fancy SCOTT to stick your tongue down their throat. But who am I to judge?"

I laughed, a bitter, humourless sound. "Are you fucking kidding me? Is THAT the kind of person you think I am?"

Phil's hardened expression wavered, but he simply turned and threw the door open. 

"I thought you'd at least be here for me after our manager decided to get drunk and make out with me, since you're the only person I give a shit about, but I guess not!"

Phil stopped dead in the middle of the hallway, but I'd already slammed the door, tears burning hot on my face.

Phil

I hated crying in public, but there was no avoiding it. The tears wouldn't stop. I couldn't lose Dan, not here, not on tour. Not ever. The thought of SCOTT, of jealousy, being the thing that finally tore us apart was unbearable.

"Hey, are you okay?"

I looked up at a girl, her voice laced with a Texas drawl and worry, which was the prominent emotion on her face. I searched her eyes, looking for any trace of familiarity, because if she was a fan I couldn't say anything. But all I saw in the shining green depths was concern.

"No," I sniffed, and she sat next to me on the cold tile, in the middle of the hotel lobby. "You don't have to bother yourself by coddling me, I'm being silly."

She shook her head, her long ponytail swinging behind her. "It's not a problem at all. Can I ask what's wrong?"

I was considering not telling her, but... what the hell, I needed to tell someone.

"My best friend and I had a fight. I like him-yeah, I'm gay, whatever- because he let this arsehole of a guy kiss him right in front of me, and he HAS to know I love him because we've known each other for almost eight years."

The girl nodded, looking thoughtful and, thankfully, not repulsed by the gay thing. "Does he know you love him?"

"He's got to, it's so obvious. All of our... friends... know," I explained, not adding the word 'fans'. I didn't want her to know we were famous.

She pursed her lips, partly in disapproval and partly in amusement. "You would think, but he probably thinks you wouldn't like him. You seem nice enough, and you're very cute, so maybe he thinks someone like you couldn't like him back?"

She had basically described half of Dan's existential crises, so I watched her face again, trying to see if she knew us. I decided she couldn't, not by how calm she was acting, which is why I continued. If she was a fan, and a teenage fan at that, she'd be flipping out to know these details.

"Yeah, I guess. Should I tell him now, though? He's mad at me. For good reason, too; I acted like a jerk."

"Even better," the girl grinned, mulling something over for a moment. "There's a karaoke bar here; pick a song and sing it to him there. Trust me, I know it sounds cheesy as shit, but I've seen it work miracles."

She saw the dubious expression on my face, but smiled encouragingly. "He'll love it, I promise. Just pick one that describes y'all, or describes him."

I nodded, wiping the remaining tears from my eyes. I stood up, and she did as well, holding her arms out and raising her eyebrows. I hugged her back, and she was so small, even smaller than Tyler.

"Thank you," I said, as she stepped back. "You don't know how much I needed that."

She waved me off, turning to leave and calling over her shoulder, "You and Dan will work it out. You've been friends for too long not to."

I smiled back at her grin, and it took a moment for me to fully register what she'd said. "Wait, how did you..."

She stopped, turning back. I'm sure my face was somewhere between awe and fear, so she spoke in a reassuring, slightly amused voice.

"I swear I won't say anything. I'm glad I could help; I love you two. As for the song? I suggest Snapback by Old Dominion."

She smirked, and I laughed, realizing she must have been the girl Dan had seen at the restaurant earlier and thanking the universe that fans like this existed. "What's your name? I can give you a shout out on Twitter or something."

Her face lit up, and I smiled kindly, knowing she was still a teenager and still got excited over little things. She told me her information, blushing at her phan-related Tumblr username, but I waved her off this time, thanking her again and smiling as I made my way back to the room. Time to fix things, and hopefully for good.

Dan 

Phil had texted me that he wanted to talk, which I was okay with. We needed to talk. He said to meet him at the bar downstairs, so I got dressed in some semi-nice clothes and put the loathed snapback on again.  
He was fifteen minutes late, so I assumed he'd gone back to the room to change, and I'd just missed him. Which, again, I was okay with; I needed a few seconds to myself.

When Phil did show up, he looked nervous and ashamed, his voice quiet as he spoke.

“So what happened with Scott?”

I told him, looking anywhere but at his face. I couldn't stand Phil looking sad or upset, so I just talked and stared at my hands, fiddling with the salt shaker on the table.

“Dan, I'm so, so sorry I acted the way I did. I just… it made me sad, to think that you would like someone and not tell me. That you would…”

‘Like someone other than me’. The words were clear in the air, but neither of us brought it up. That had been our routine, since 2012; don't think about it, and nothing can happen. And that was the problem; nothing had happened.

“I'll be right back,” Phil said abruptly, standing and walking to the back of the bar, where the stage and the loo were, I assumed. He'd only been gone five minutes when music started playing, some upbeat country song that seemed familiar. I was still staring at my hands when the man on stage started singing; I hadn't realized it was a karaoke bar.

“Strictly outta curiosity,  
What would happen if you got with me?  
Kissin' you would hit the spot with me  
Come on skip a couple rocks with me.”

I nearly fell out of my chair, I turned around so fast. Phil had never been a particularly amazing Singer, but he damn sure wasn't bad, either. I just didn't know he knew country music. Or, well, that he would sing it in front of fifty people on a stage in Texas.

“Gimme any of your heart tonight  
Ain't no reason that we need to be apart tonight  
I got somethin' we could start tonight  
Lookin' at you boy it's hard to fight.”

 

Did he just.. change the lyrics? And suddenly I knew where I'd heard the song; it was one of the last ones we'd played for the Top Hits on the last Internet Takeover we'd done. Phil had said it was an “okayish country song. For a country song.” And I'd laughed, thinking what a ridiculous song it was, since it was about a…  
Oh my God, he wasn't…  
He wouldn't...

“Those stars need to be wished on  
Your skin needs to be kissed on  
My eyes baby they're fixed on you in your snapback.”

He stared straight at me when he sang that line, grinning like a fool and I couldn't stop the blush from spreading across my cheeks, because everyone was looking at me, being that I was the only one wearing a bloody snapback. 

“T-shirt of your favorite rock band  
Checkin' your fringe in my Ray Bans  
Breakin' hearts like only you can in your snapback.”

And those freaking sunglasses, those Ray Bans, were pushed up on his forehead right then, and the crowd awwed and smiled and all I wanted to do was kiss Phil as he continued making a fool of himself and grinning like a little shit as he did.

 

When the song ended, the applause was thunderous, and Phil grinned and bowed like the cheeky motherfucker that he was. He made his way back to our table slowly, and I tried to think of something witty to say as he stood in front of me, arms across his chest and an unapologetic smile on his face. And all I could think to do, after all of that, was smash my lips to his and tangle my fingers in his hair. The sunglasses fell to the floor, but we didn't care, locked on to each other because it had been long enough, waiting for one of us to finally grow a pair and do it. When we separated, we were both breathing hard, and another small round of applause echoed around us. A small hand waved at us from our right, holding the glasses and smiling with bright green eyes. The girl from the restaurant earlier.

“Congratulations, bout damn time,” she smirked, as Phil took the glasses and smiled warmly at her. I looked back and forth between them, both seeming amused and looked like they were hiding something. It made me smile, guessing at what had happened. I knew this couldn't have JUST been Phil's idea.

“Do you two know each other?” I asked slowly, the girl repressing a grin and Phil snickering. 

“Let's just say we owe her one,” he finally said, and the girl smiled again before turning on the heel of her cowboy boot, calling over her shoulder;

“Oh, and Dan? Love the snapback.”


End file.
